Severus Snape: Sinner or Saint?
by sylvanawood
Summary: A trap, revenge, love, and a barrel of beer are involved in the drama that ensues when Hermione and Severus drink Polyjuice Potion to switch bodies. SS/HG
1. Chapter 1

_The story was written for the SS/HG exchange, winter round 2008/2009._

_Thank you to my beta reader Melusin. This story is as much a gift for her as it is for the recipient._

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

Original Prompt: – Hermione and Snape down Polyjuice Potion of each other so they switch bodies. Accidental or on purpose is up to you. Let the games begin.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_Severus Snape: Sinner or Saint?_

_Rita Skeeter, bestselling author of _'The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_' strikes again. Special correspondent Lavender Brown, who writes for the _Prophet's_ society section, was invited to Ms Skeeter's home and granted an interview with the charismatic author._

"I had humble beginnings," Rita tells me while showing me around her eleven-bedroom mansion. "But hard work and dedication to the quality of my work have brought me to where I am now."

Proudly, the stylish, trim, blonde lady opens the doors to her library for me, pointing out the marble floors, oriental carpets and antique furniture.

"There were a good many grand houses for sale after the war," she says, explaining her good fortune. "And with the income from my latest book, I'm finally able to live in style."

Rita's house-elf serves tea, and then we finally settle down to chat about her new book.

"Why Severus Snape?" I ask. "What is so fascinating about a man most of us only remember as an unpleasant teacher, murderer of Albus Dumbledore and cruel headmaster under Voldemort's reign?"

Rita laughs. "Oh, yes, Severus Snape is well known for his less than stable temper. I've experienced it first hand, too. But that is part of what makes the man so fascinating, don't you think?"

She winks at me and continues, "He combines both the ability to frighten and anger the unsuspecting and innocent and, at the same time, the willingness to protect them with all he has—with his life if need be. Or does he?" Rita's eyes sparkle mischievously. "After all, dangerous Death Eaters trembled in fear at the mere sight of him, and he didn't hesitate one second when the opportunity to murder Dumbledore arose. But some say that this was pre-arranged with Dumbledore himself and that Snape, at great risk to his own soul, provided an easy death for the already doomed Dumbledore at a strategically opportune time."

I am full of questions and must look it because she continues, "After my last book about the puppet-master Dumbledore, exploring the character of Severus Snape was the logical conclusion. We have a man here who experienced the full range of Albus Dumbledore's questionable talents at manipulation. It begs the question: why did Dumbledore speak up for and protect Severus Snape for so long? Did he cultivate a spy, using a disgruntled ex-Death Eater to gather information on the enemy, or was there more between them? Why did Severus Snape turn spy, and what did he think about the unhealthy fixation of Dumbledore on Harry Potter?"

"Do you think Snape was Dumbledore's lover?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"Read the book and make your own conclusions." Rita smiles enigmatically. "You see, there are so many questions, and with my usual thorough research, I managed to answer many of those questions. I persuaded a few people who've been very close to the man for almost all his life to spill the beans, but I had to wait until they were released from Azkaban. Interviewing the right people helped me shed light on the ambiguous character of Severus Snape, who's been called a vile bastard by some and the bravest man they ever knew by others."

"So what is he, sinner or saint?" I ask, not able to turn my eyes away from Rita. That's how intrigued I am.

"Read the book and you'll know," Rita laughs.

And that's exactly what I did. And it kept me spellbound. I don't need to avail myself of my talents as a seer to know that this book will be the talk of many a salon this season. But for the benefit of those readers who need a bit more of an incentive to read a book as voluminous as her latest oeuvre, Rita Skeeter has agreed to discuss short passages from the book with us: passages that give us a glimpse into the dangerous world of crime, terror and espionage. The _Prophet_ feels privileged to be allowed to print these passages as a preview for our valued readers.

We shall start with the last chapter: _Chapter Thirteen: Privilege or Punishment?_

When Severus Snape surprised everyone by surviving the attack of Voldemort's pet snake, many people were convinced that he would be given a fair trial and sent to Azkaban, together with his other Death Eater mates. Who would have suspected that the Boy-Who-Lived would stand up for his old enemy––everyone knows how much Severus Snape has always loathed Harry Potter––and bear witness in his favour?

Harry Potter's testimony kept Severus Snape out of Azkaban and almost free from all repercussions. The only restriction that was laid on Snape was to report to the Ministry and not leave Britain. He was not permitted to work in certain professions, but he was generously offered employment in the Auror section of the Ministry under the direct authority of––you've guessed it––Harry Potter. Severus Snape should be thanking Harry Potter on bended knee for that preferential treatment. Or should he?

… … …

#######

"Bloody hell, Severus. You look like shit!"

"And a good evening to you, too, Miss Granger."

"It's Hermione. How often do I have to tell you? But seriously, you look done in. Had a tough day?"

"You could call it that."

"Fancy a beer at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Are you paying?"

"The first round. The second's on you. I could do with a pint or two as well."

Severus Snape nodded and held the door to the lift open. Hermione Granger, second assistant in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, smiled and walked past him into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. They were both heading straight towards the long row of fireplaces on the right-hand side that were used by the Ministry employees to Floo home from work. Hermione and Severus each faced a fireplace and took a pinch of Floo powder from the jar on the respective mantelpieces. In a much-practised routine, they threw the powder into the flames, cried 'Leaky Cauldron' almost simultaneously and spiralled away in a green flash.

#######

"So you think my job in the Auror section is a piece of cake?" Severus asked after having taken a long gulp of Dodderidge's Finest Traditional Mild and wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

"I didn't say that," Hermione replied, having emptied her tankard already and was now diligently ripping a packet of crisps open for them to share. "But I doubt that you have to deal with as many idiots as I do, day in, day out."

"You really have no idea, have you?" Severus grimaced as if in pain but raised a hand, signalling Tom to bring them two more pints.

"How bad can it be, being an advisor for Aurors-in-training and brewing first-aid potions?" she mumbled through the crisps in her mouth.

"How bad can it be bickering about house-elf liberties with old-established administrators who haven't seen change in procedure during their own lifetime and that of their predecessors?" Severus mimicked her with a sneer.

"You have no idea." Hermione grimaced and waved to Tom to bring them a third round.

"Sir, could I have your autograph?" A hopeful looking young witch was approaching their table, holding a book clasped to her chest—a book that had Severus' face glaring from the title page.

The original's glare caused the witch to take a step backwards. " S… Sorry…" she stammered and carefully retreated.

Hermione covered her eyes with her hands and murmured, "I should have stomped on Skeeter while I had the opportunity…" She peeked through her fingers at Severus, whose angry frown seemed etched onto his face. "Relax," Hermione whispered. "It could have been a lot worse…"

Severus answered with a snarl and ordered yet another round.

"I wish… " he whispered after they'd drunk their fourth tankard each. "I just wish I had an easy job like you. Just for one day."

Hermione studied his face and posture closely. He really did look done in. His shoulders were slumped, and his face was pale. His raven-black hair still wasn't showing any traces of grey, but it was as greasy as it had ever been. His long, crooked nose jutted out of his thin face, a face that showed more lines than it had at Hogwarts, but not all of them came from frowning and scowling. These days, Severus Snape actually laughed on occasion. It was a scary thought, and most people trod very carefully around him when he laughed or smiled.

"You want to swap jobs?" Hermione asked and grinned. "Why, that's easy enough. If you're so convinced that my job is relaxing, you're welcome to it, for half a day or so. Then, if you still think that my life is so carefree, I'll buy you a whole barrel of Dodderidge's Finest."

"Deal." Severus smirked. He had her right where he wanted her. Former Gryffindors were so easily manipulated.

"Not so fasht." Hermione grinned happily after downing another pint but found her tongue to be annoyingly heavy all of a sudden. "Sh… sh… should be some proof that you mean it. Shhh… some magical contract." She sat up straight with some effort and looked at him earnestly. As earnestly as a thoroughly plastered twenty-five-year-old woman could manage, at least.

"Give it here. I'll sign it. Anything you want, Miss Granger. Anything…"

"It's Hermione. How often do I have to...? And you're not ssssss… signing without… You're drunk. Is that how you got your Dark Mark?"

"That remark was in extremely bad taste." Severus straightened his shoulders and glowered, looking as seriously offended as a thoroughly plastered forty-four-year-old man could manage.

"Yes, it was, and I apologize," Hermione replied, sobering up a bit. She certainly didn't want to offend the wizard sitting opposite her. Severus Snape was too good a companion for getting plastered with; she didn't want to piss him off. Besides, she had a reason for wanting to change identities with him. But she didn't want him to know that. Former Slytherins had to be manipulated with subtlety.

As unlikely as it seemed, Severus and Hermione had both found themselves with a job in the Ministry after the war. Hermione had briefly considered training as an Auror, along with Harry, but she lacked the enthusiasm for fighting. She found that she'd had enough of Dark wizard catching during the war and in the final battle, thank you very much. She'd eventually changed her attitude towards the law and decided that she'd be in the best position to elicit change if she worked right at the heart of things. She'd work her way up through the departments, and, always being the overachiever, she'd quickly get into a position where she could instigate real change. Change towards a wizarding world as she thought it ought to be.

That had all worked out nicely––only, Hermione had neglected to consider one all-decisive fact: administrators hate change. Her rapid understanding of procedure and her eagerness to complete her tasks quickly didn't make her any friends among the other staff. She was soon considered to be a know-it-all, an upstart, a brown-noser who disturbed her colleagues' trusted routine. This could not be permitted, and thus Hermione soon found herself as ostracized as she had been when she'd started her first year at Hogwarts. Only this time, there were no Harry and Ron to befriend and change the world with; those two were now following their own agendas, and when all three of them got together on the odd weekend, they were reluctant to discuss work and the Ministry.

Things had brightened up for Hermione when Ron had proposed two years after the war. She'd thought that, with an old wizarding family like the Weasleys to back her up, she'd be more accepted and taken seriously in society. Instead, the Weasleys did everything they could think of to discourage Hermione's ambitions and keep her from 'presenting such outlandish ideas', as Molly Weasley had called them. None of the younger Weasleys had been inclined to take Hermione's side on most of the things that mattered to her, not even Ron. To say that Hermione had been disappointed would be an understatement. Naturally, that development didn't exactly promote her relationship with Ron, and after several heated fights about his uncritical submission to his mother's worldview, Hermione had called their engagement off. She hadn't regretted that decision for a moment; the spark between them had been withering away, anyway. She and Ron were still friends, but there was nothing that was going to hold her back from going her own way, now: up, up, the career ladder and towards making some genuine and much-needed changes.

Over the previous seven years, her determination had got her the position of second assistant to the Department Head. She now had some real power to get things into motion, but she was more isolated than ever.

She would have felt even more miserable if it wasn't for Severus Snape.

They had both worked in the Ministry for years without seeing much of each other, but one evening, about a year ago, Hermione had found Severus in the lift, unconscious. He'd had no clear recollection of how he got there but claimed that it might have been a disgruntled ex-student who had hexed him. When Hermione had reacted with indignation, he had played it down, professing that a healthy herd of enemies kept a wizard's reflexes sharp. That had made her laugh, and they had ended up drinking in the Leaky Cauldron together.

From that day on, she had kept her eyes open and had seen him more than once with a black eye or a limp. They made a habit of meeting at least once a week, and Hermione now looked forward to those evenings spent drinking with Severus Snape. He was good company in misery. Neither told the other in detail what was bugging them, but they listened patiently to each other's more general complaints and drowned them together. Just as they were doing now.

"So, what exactly am I supposed to sign?" Severus' words slurred.

"We'll both sign," Hermione mumbled, mouth full of crisps again. "We'll spend an afternoon at work in the other's shoes and later tell each other what happened, and if we'd prefer it to our own job. To that effect, we'll take Polyjuice Potion."

His eyes glittered. "Do you know what you're getting yourself into?"

"Of course," she huffed. "Do you?"

"Naturally. Polyjuice Potion it is, then. Do you have any?"

"I happen to have a flask with several doses in my flat," Hermione told him, ignoring his curious stare. She wasn't going to tell him why she had several doses of Polyjuice Potion in her possession; that was nobody's business.

"Since we're both rather incapacitated," Severus drawled, "we should wait until tomorrow, or whenever you want to go through with this little charade, and sign the contract when we're sober. Or drop out, whatever may be the more sensible action."

"Agreed. Lunch in my flat, then?"

#######

Good as his word, Severus showed up at Hermione's flat the next day: a bag with sandwiches in one hand, a packet of biscuits in the other. He was just about to knock on the door with his left foot when it opened.

Balancing precariously on one leg, Severus tried to regain his dignity, straightened, raised his shoulders and looked down his nose at Hermione. "Miss Granger."

"Her–my–oh–knee," Hermione said patiently in lieu of a greeting while waving him inside. "Come on, say it. It's not that difficult. Someone who can say, 'insufferable know-it-all' without stuttering should be able to manage a simple name."

"Perhaps," Severus muttered non-committally and went straight to the kitchen. He'd been there before, having helped her get home safely more than once after their 'sessions' in the Leaky Cauldron.

"You're a perfect gentleman," Hermione would tell him on such occasions. "The perfect dark knight." And as sure as the sun would rise in the east, she would dissolve into giggles at that point. Severus didn't mind. She was one sympathetic soul in a sea of sharks. He'd cultivate her company and enjoy it while it lasted. He had grown rather fond of her during the past months, in a somewhat detached way.

"I've just made a fresh pot of tea," Hermione declared, setting out cups and plates and pouring a cup for Severus.

"Good," he replied. "Then we can get straight to business. What do you remember of last night's conversation?"

Hermione sat down, after having poured herself a cup, too, and took one of the sandwiches. She bit into it, chewed thoroughly and thoughtfully and then swallowed, giving the sandwiches an appreciative nod.

"Good," she praised. "Go on, eat something. I remember everything, of course. What did you think?" She grinned before taking another bite.

He smirked. "I brought the contracts. We'll pass the afternoon disguised as each other, each equipped with a phial of three more doses of Polyjuice. That should get us through the rest of the workday. Then, we'll meet in your office and tell each other what happened. We shall evaluate the situation frankly and honestly. And then you'll buy me that barrel of Dodderidge's Finest."

Hermione laughed. "There's a part missing. If one of the parties lies, they have to buy the beer in the Leaky for the next three months."

"Agreed," Severus said and signed the contract, quickly followed by Hermione.

They stared at each other in silence while they ate the rest of the sandwiches. When they started on the biscuits, Hermione blurted out, "I trust that you've done this before?"

"Of course I have. What do you think? Are you afraid I'll be seeing or feeling something that excites me so much that I won't be able to perform the tasks you usually do?"

"Not really," Hermione admitted, washing the last of the biscuits down with her tea. "But, you know, I wasn't certain if you'd… in your time at school…"

"Good heavens," Severus exclaimed. "Miss, er, Hermione, I can assure you that every little harmless or not-so-harmless Polyjuice experiment that was done in your dorm during your time at school had already been invented by Slytherins in the seventies."

Hermione snorted. "I don't know what you think we did. It wasn't all that naughty. There was a bit of playing around, nothing serious. Nothing more or less than what goes on in any dorm third year and up, I suppose."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Playing around. I see. Dare I ask…?"

"There were a couple of boys who caught my fancy––surely you can guess as much––and when I could get a hair off one of them… It helped me to find out what they liked, and what it's like as a man… You might remember that I always tried to learn as much as I could."

"A boy? Now that does surprise me. In your second year, when all the other silly girls fancied Gilderoy Lockhart, you surprised everyone with your stunt as a cat." Severus snorted into his tea. "A clear improvement over that old phony, I admit."

"Very funny." Hermione glared at him. "I'm not asking you what you did with the Polyjuice, but I just trust that you'll know what to do with my bits if nature calls?"

"I'll manage, as will you, I'm sure. But be that as it may, we should get back to the point. What are your current projects?"

"There's nothing urgent going on at the moment, just a bit of filing. You merely need to pretend to sort through the files. There's nothing confidential out in the open. If someone asks you a specific question, claim that you have a terrible headache and that you'll get back to them tomorrow. They know better than to pester me when I have a migraine. You'll be able to observe them without having to do much work. Just watch their interactions and the way they 'work', and you'll know why I need to drown my sorrows." She continued telling him about her job and then went on to ask questions about his own tasks.

#######

After they had briefed each other the best they could in the remaining time, they returned to the Ministry and went straight to Hermione's office.

"Cheers," she said and raised her first dose of the potion in salute. Severus threw one of his hairs in and, screwing her eyes shut, Hermione took a good swig from the poisonous-smelling, frothing, and silvery gloop.

Severus watched intrigued as the rather pretty face of Miss Granger twisted and warped, erupted into boils and bumps and finally transformed into his own ugly face with its ridiculous, large nose. Merlin, for running around with that nose alone, she deserved to be treated to the best the Leaky, or any other wizarding establishment, could offer, not just the weak beer they usually shared.

His body wasn't much better. At least there was certain strength there, a subdued power to his pathetic frame, but as usual, he looked too pale, too thin. It was good to see himself from this perspective, he thought bitterly. That'd cure him of any ideas about appearing attractive to any witch, young or old, present or absent. He could be glad that Granger was willing to drink with him on occasion; that way, he at least had a minimum of human contact, just enough to keep him functioning.

Hermione took a few steps, pulled her Transfigured robes around herself and turned with a flourish. Posing importantly was so much easier if you had the height and frame for it. She strode proudly from one end of the room to the other and turned once again with robes billowing.

"Well?" she asked expectantly, a small smile on her face.

"Not bad, but don't smile. It's not improving my appearance and will only puzzle your opponents." He paused and stared at her––himself––thoughtfully. "On the other hand, it might be advantageous. You'll scare your opponent, and a scared foe is a beaten foe."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. That felt natural. She experimentally tried to smirk and got an appreciative look from the original.

"Your turn now," she said and took the curly hair she had pulled from her own head earlier.

Severus held out his phial, and they watched together as the potion frothed and bubbled and emitted an evil, cabbage smell. Then it changed its colour to a rather delicious looking chocolate brown, emitting a slight cinnamon fragrance.

"Fascinating," Severus muttered and pinched his nose while swallowing down a portion of the phial's contents. He gagged a few times and then held on to the nearest chair, a pained expression on his pale face.

Hermione watched with interest how his harsh features softened and changed. The bubbles and bumps changed colour, and instead of the sallow-faced man, a slightly tanned woman stood before her. Her own nose seemed ridiculously small compared to the glorious conk normally resident on Severus' face, which was now jutting out from her own borrowed face. The soft, lank, black hair had transformed into a rat's nest of an undefined brown colour.

_Damn_, Hermione thought. _I really should get my hair dyed or at least learn the charm to do it myself. A few highlights, or maybe a hint of red…_

Her only redeeming features were her trim figure and nice, pert breasts. She looked at them fondly, not wanting to know what Severus was going to do with them while in possession of her body. As she waved her wand over Severus' large robes to Transfigure them into her own, she smirked at the scowl he gave her.

"Don't scowl," she admonished. "It's not ladylike. Glare, if you must. My glare is well-known around here. And don't shout, screech."

"Very well," Severus said, clearing his throat after having uttered his first slightly squeaky words as Hermione Granger. Damnation, he had never noticed that her voice was so much higher than his own.

"That's my line," Hermione said. "You say, 'all right'. Or 'Blimey.' Or 'Bloody Hell'."

"All right," he said and tried a timid smile. "Let's get to work, then. And don't forget to watch your back when you go down there."

"Don't worry. I know how to fight," Hermione replied, slightly miffed. "As you may remember, I had plenty of practice."

"Just saying," Severus drawled.

"Don't drawl," she reprimanded him. "Oh, and if Cormac McLaggen happens to come by the office, do not, and I repeat, DO NOT agree with anything he suggests and ward off any effort at inviting me out or such. That man is as persistent as a cockroach. Sadly, I can't just stomp on him."

"I shall remember it, if and when he shows up," Severus said while she made her way to the door. "Good luck."

"Same to you. We'll talk later."

Frowning, he stared at the door that had closed behind her, wondering what the afternoon would bring and where his silly idea would lead them. At least it was a diversion from his own depressing, daily routine.

#######

Hermione enjoyed striding down the corridor and taking full advantage of Severus' long legs and lean frame. Who'd have known that his body was so graceful and well-balanced? She wondered what dancing would feel like in his body. Dancing or any other form of co-ordinated movement. Or… No, she would not get into THAT. Severus was a friend; she could not use his body to satisfy her curiosity; that would be a breach of trust. She did know what it felt like to be a man, after all. It had been a while, though. Her first tentative experiments had been in her fifth year, and the last time she had taken Polyjuice Potion to pose as a man had been in the summer after their sixth year when several of Harry's friends had posed as the seven Potters to get him out of Privet Drive safely. Looking back, she still couldn't believe how foolish they'd been. It had been Albus Dumbledore's plan, relayed to them by Severus through Mundungus, and like all of Dumbledore's plans, this one had been more than questionable and sufficiently idiotic. There would have been much safer ways to get Harry away from his aunt's house, and then maybe Mad Eye would still be alive. And Harry's owl, Hedwig. Maybe…

Shaking herself slightly, Hermione walked past the lift, barely avoiding a collision with the swarm of paper-aeroplane memos that buzzed in and out of the lift at every floor. Being as tall as Severus didn't only have advantages, apparently. She took the stairs down to the second level where Severus worked.

"Hey, Snape. Watch it!" A voice woke her from her reverie, and a younger Auror, who was walking past her in the corridor, slammed into her with his shoulder, shoving Hermione roughly against the wall.

"Sorry," Hermione murmured, but the Auror had walked away already, laughing unpleasantly.

Interesting. Frowning, Hermione proceeded to Severus' office at the end of the corridor, right behind the Auror section, and opened the door. She stopped dead in her tracks.

A dead, half-rotten fish was lying across Severus' desk, and the paperwork was strewn all over the place. Cupboards, drawers and filing cabinets had been opened, upturned and emptied. She was looking around, speechless, outrage bubbling up from her stomach and causing a bitter taste in her mouth. With trembling hands, she took her wand out of Severus' robes––her aspen and dragon heartstring wand looked sufficiently similar to Severus' rowan and unicorn hair wand to fool the casual observer––and cast a Vanishing Spell on the fish, sent the drawers back into their chests and had just started to sort the paperwork and office equipment back into their proper places when the door opened with a bang.

"Snape, I need that Cruciatus report on my desk by five o' clock today." Harry Potter, now head of the Auror office, had stormed in. "And clean out that mess, man. Don't let your temper get the better of you all the time," he snarled, looking around disdainfully before leaving just as fast as he had come.

"H…, ah, Potter!" Hermione bellowed but to no avail. What the hell was going on here? She doubted that this was the first time this kind of prank had been played on Severus, but why had he never told her about it? And what was with Harry? She'd have to find out…

A few more flicks and muttered spells and the office was cleaned up. With a sigh, she slumped down on Severus' chair, wondering what else she'd experience before the day was over.

#######

"Hermione, do you have a minute?" Percy Weasley, Minister of Magic, stood in the doorway, smiling down at Severus benevolently.

"M… Minister? What is it?" Severus sighed in resignation. Typical of Granger to have omitted the little fact that the minister might want to talk to her.

"That last report of yours. You know, the one proposing to convince centaurs to join the Wizengamot? We need to discuss this."

"What's there to discuss? All I have to say is in there."

"That may be, but the form, Hermione, the form. Will you ever learn to use the right application form for a proposal like this?" Percy shook his head and sighed. Then he patted Severus' hand. Severus had to grind his teeth; he was so close to hexing Weasley's bollocks off…

"But that's only a minor point, isn't it? The main thing is what you wrote here. You can't possibly want the centaurs on the Wizengamot."

"Why ever not?"

"They don't even have magical being status. They'd have to apply for that first, and you know how they feel about doing that. It's a process that can take years."

"And why, pray, would they have to do that?" Severus felt an intellectual challenge, something he seldom experienced in his own profession. "It's not as if wizards ever applied for magical being status, is it?"

"Er, ah… er… of course not," Percy stuttered. "What an idea! We're people. That's different."

"In what way?" Severus challenged. "Do you mean to imply that their brains are less capable of thinking than ours? I know for a fact that intelligence is not a criterion for being chosen to serve on the Wizengamot, nor is magical ability. Do the centaurs lack connections? Surely a few of them would agree to mingle in society? Firenze would be quite an attraction at parties; the ladies were always rather partial to him."

Percy sputtered. "That's not… not possible. That's simply not possible, Hermione."

"You don't want to do anything for them, do you?"

"It's my last word. Change this report and leave the proposal out. If they wish to apply for magical being status, very well, but not that… and that's my last word on this," he spat and stormed out of the door, muttering, "What's next? Ghosts on the Wizengamot?"

_That went rather well_, Severus thought. Dealing with an idiot like Weasley on a day-to-day basis wasn't what he'd call fun, though. It was quite entertaining to rile the man up, but if you were high enough on the career ladder to almost have him as your immediate superior… He'd better watch he didn't ruin Hermione's chances of promotion and the like.

"Miss Granger, your mail." Hermione's secretary marched into the room, timidly holding a large box in front of her as if it contained explosives. With a haughty sneer, she shoved the box into Severus' hands, gave him an icy glare, spun on her heels and strode out of the room as importantly as she had come in.

"Thank you, ah, Mrs. Puckle," Severus said, staring from the closed door to the box in his hands and back to the door. _Puffed-up cow_, he thought.

The box was filled with letters and small parcels. He took out the topmost letter and cautiously waved his wand over it, just in case. It didn't seem to contain anything malicious, and so he opened it.

'_Ms Hermione Granger,_

_How dare you?_

_My family can trace its line back to the Goblin wars, and we have always been extraordinarily proud of the heroes in our family. There is no way that we will we agree with a decree by the Ministry that gives the Goblin permission to use a wand. The Goblin is not to be trusted; he is ugly, greedy and true wizards should be watchful to keep the Goblin in his place._

_You, Madam, are the best example that wizardkind should be exceedingly careful about whom we embrace in our fold. Muggleborns should never have been allowed into positions of influence; all these outlandish new ideas can only lead to trouble. In fact, Muggleborns should have stayed where they belong: in the Muggle world._

_You, however, should have been drowned at birth._

_Sincerely_

_Amaranthus Ingleton_'

_Lovely_, Severus thought. It looked like Hermione hadn't made only friends in her career. He was vaguely reminded of something she had done at Hogwarts; it was the beginning of the house-elf campaign, if he recalled correctly. Back then, it had had disastrous results, but after things had been set in motion a second time, it was starting to look promising.

He wondered if he'd find some files about her Goblin project. Permitting Goblins to use wands—now that would be something revolutionary. He marvelled at Hermione's naiveté. Everyone who could look beyond the surface of things and put two and two together would know that natural Goblin magic was strong and unpredictable. Much stronger, in fact, than the human type of magic was. There was no knowing what Goblins would do with so much power if they could use wands to focus and enhance their magic. They'd soon be the ones who called the shots, and it would be wizards and witches who'd have to apply for everything that went beyond the established routine if they weren't careful.

Shaking his head, he took out the next envelope. A quick wave of his wand, and he put it down again quickly. There was something unfriendly in there. Casting a Bubblehead Charm around it, he carefully opened the envelope with a precisely aimed slicing hex and nudged the contents out with a Levitation Charm.

It was a Howler. Severus added a second bubble and leaned back, arms crossed.

The Howler bumped against its prison several times, fluttered wildly inside its confinement and then focussed on the side where Severus was sitting. It tried repeatedly to break the bubble but didn't succeed. Shaking itself, it started to scream––at least it tried to. With a smirk, Severus leaned forward; he wanted to hear what the Howler had to say. The Bubblehead Charm didn't only keep the Howler inside; it also muffled the voice down to a whisper.

"_You Hussy,_" the Howler whispered.

"_Wizards are wizards, and creatures are creatures. Didn't they teach you anything at Hogwarts, you stupid cow? That's what comes from allowing Muggleborns to impersonate true magical people. Giants, centaurs, Muggleborns… It's all Dumbledore's fault. And Arthur Weasley's. And yours. At least no decent wizard wants anything to do with you. You'll die an old maid, and that's exactly what you deserve. Just you wait._

_"Sincerely,_

_"Violet Pennyroyal"_

The Howler blew a raspberry and burst into flames.

_Well,_ Severus thought. Who'd have known that the protection strategies he'd developed as a teacher would come in useful here and now? At Hogwarts, he had been sent Howlers on a regular basis— each time the little darlings had complained about his treatment of them at home, some outraged mother or father had thought fit to try and intimidate him with a Howler. They had amused him and on rare occasions had provided him with an interesting new turn of phrase for an insult.

Shrugging, he picked up the next envelope. He'd sort through this mess and deactivate the malicious ones. That was something useful he could do for Hermione; she'd be spared the trouble for that day, at least. He resolved to talk to her about the letters and about ways she could protect herself. Maybe, he could give her a hint or two…

* * *

A/N: Everyone is invited to participate at the celebrations of Severus Snape's 50th birthday. Come, join the Severus Big Bang Birthday Bash at the .com/severusbigbang/ community on LiveJournal or at the .com/severusbigbang/ asylum on InsaneJournal.

Sign ups are open for **writers, artists/crafters and betas/cheerleaders**.

We want for our birthday boy to have a resounding bang of your creativity as a gift, no matter which genre or ship you prefer. Sign ups are open until June 30, 2009. Posting starts January 9, 2010.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to my beta reader, Melusin. This story is as much a gift for her as it is for the recipient._

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

**Chapter 2**

Rita beams as she offers me a slice of her famous pound cake. The discussion of Snape's fate clearly invigorates the famous author and former journalist.

"So you think that not all is well with Snape in his present position?" I ask her, slightly puzzled.

"Oh, I suppose different people would answer this question differently. My most reliable source for information, a former student of Snape, Gregory Goyle, informs me that Snape is lying low under Potter's protection. Greg knows that many of his friends and house-mates haven't forgotten that Snape betrayed them all." Rita looks at me with a smirk. "Snape is a half-blood; did you know that?"

"No!" I gasp out in surprise. The Head of Slytherin House for so many years and a half-blood? Who would have thought?

"It was all Dumbledore's doing, of course. He'd always tried to undermine Slytherin House, and with Snape at his beck and call, he had a spy right where he wanted him the most."

"But wasn't Snape also spying among the Death Eaters?"

"That's what Harry Potter told Voldemort during the final battle when he thought that Snape had died. But where is the proof for that? Where are the witnesses? A Pensieve memory? The prattle of a semi-senile portrait?" Rita laughs scornfully. "Let me tell you," she continues, "that Snape certainly knew how to make enemies. No matter which side they were on during the war, many a witch or wizard has reason to feel less than benevolent towards the former Potions master. They want revenge."

This brings us to the next chapter Rita has agreed to reveal. For our readers, we have an exclusive sneak-peek into_Chapter 3: Retaliation and Revenge._

… … …

#######

Hermione took the phial with the last dose of the Snape-Polyjuice out of her pocket and drank it down with one long gulp. She shuddered and waited until her body had ceased shivering—a sign that the potion had done its work.

In under an hour, she could go back to her office and be herself again, she mused. She had achieved her goal and seen what Severus Snape's daily life was like. It was a relief to know that, although sad and boring, his life didn't seem to be quite as bad as she had feared.

After having delivered the Cruciatus report to Harry––it had been ready; Harry could have picked it up himself, had she known––she took the next file folder off of the pile on Severus' desk. It was a request to define and describe the effect of malicious intent on a spell. How interesting. While she didn't quite agree with the normal tasks Severus was given as 'advisor to the Auror office', this was more of what she would have expected. Most of Severus' work consisted of boring routine tasks: de-maligning items that had been hexed in Auror training, writing tutorials for basic defensive spells, writing memoranda about the better known Dark spells… Any idiot with a modicum of intelligence could have done it. She thought that the Auror office would have wanted to use Severus' extensive expertise; he was an excellent teacher for Defence against the Dark Arts, and his knowledge of Dark Magic and how to counteract it was unrivalled. She'd have to have a word with Harry about this.

Brewing basic first-aid potions was like that, too; every halfway competent fifth-year Hogwarts student could have done that. Hermione knew that Severus didn't have a choice after the war when the position had been offered to him. It was a means of controlling him and keeping an eye on him. He wasn't trusted. That was to be expected, more or less––but why was his knowledge, his talent, being wasted? Hermione thought she'd have to have a word with Percy about this, as well. If she could get him to listen in-between measuring the margins of her report forms, that was.

A knock on the door interrupted her ruminations. At her call, a short, stocky, middle-aged man with a bald crown and glasses entered the room. Hermione knew him by sight. He was… from Finance. What was his name? Right. Wimple, Rufus Wimple.

"Wimple? What is it?" she drawled with Severus' most efficient sneer on her face.

"Snape." The short wizard nodded a greeting. "You sent in an order for a pack of glass stirring rods. You have to justify that."

"What do you mean, I have to justify that?" Hermione asked, baffled. "What's so difficult about an order for stirring rods?"

"I know for a fact that your potions laboratory contains many stirring rods, Snape. So why do you need a new one?"

"What business is it of yours why I need glass stirring rods?"

"I have to sanction the expense. I can only do that when you fill out this form and explain to me why you need another stirring rod."

"For heaven's sake," Hermione exploded. "Every moron knows that different potions require cauldrons and stirring rods made from different materials. And it's not rocket science either to know that glass rods break, and that it is actually cheaper to buy a batch of five or ten than to order each one separately."

Wimple stared at her with wide, offended eyes and an obstinate expression. "There's no need to get all outraged and defensive with me, Snape. Merlin knows that you have no idea how much work it is to sort through all these application forms. The least you people could do is to fill in the proper form and use the proper procedure… It is important, after all. We can't just waste taxpayers' money. I have responsibilities. I…"

"Do you have an idea how much I earn here in one hour?" Hermione snarled. "And you, for that matter…"

"Ah, er, no. Why? That's irrelevant…"

"No, it's not. I can assure you that both of us earn more in thirty minutes than these stirring rods cost. You're wasting your time and mine. Time that should be used for something productive. Instead, you go on and on about stirring rods that cost a few sickles a batch… Who, exactly, is wasting taxpayers' money?"

"But, but," the small wizard spluttered. "I have to have that form filled out properly. No form, no rods." And with a huff, he left Severus' office.

_Good heavens_, Hermione thought._This feels just like working with Percy. I suppose Wimple will go far with the current administration._ She sighed and went back to work.

#######

"Hermione, do you have a few minutes?" The head of Ginny Weasley appeared in the fireplace of Hermione's office. Severus looked up from the file he was studying and glared at her with badly concealed annoyance.

"Is that necessary? I have a terrible headache, you know."

"Oh, piffle. I know about your headaches, remember? Just five minutes. Won't be long." With a flash and a flare of green flame, the redheaded only daughter of the Weasley family and spouse of the Boy-Who-Lived stepped out of the fireplace. She had a bundle in her arms, a bundle that was now starting to wiggle and cry at the top of its lungs.

"Look at little James! Healthy lungs, this one." Ginny shoved her child into Severus' arms.

_Shit_, he thought. He had absolutely no idea what to do with children, especially children as small as James Potter. _What would Granger do?_

"Oh, stop looking at him as if he were an alien life form," Ginny laughed.

"Isn't he?" Severus muttered, which made Ginny laugh even more.

"Always the same old Hermione. Put a child into her arms, and she freezes. After all those Weasley babies, you still don't know what to do with a small child, do you, Hermione? Why don't you practice a bit? There might come a time when you want little ones of your own."

"Can't really see it," Severus muttered, mildly relieved that Hermione apparently didn't know what to do with these small creatures, either. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Surely you didn't come here to amuse yourself over my inability to coo and crow over your leaky little sprog?"

"No." Ginny gave him a forced smile. "I need your advice, Hermione."

_Oh dear!_ Severus thought. "What about?"

"About my marriage, Harry, my life, everything… I think I'm stuck in a dead end."

Severus swallowed. Good grief, why did Mrs. Potter have to have self-doubts today of all days?

"How so? Don't you have everything you always wanted?" That should be true and non-committal enough.

"Yes, yes, of course, but… you know… it's… " Ginny breathed deeply, straightened her shoulders and blurted out, "I never know if things that happen are happening to me or to Mrs. Harry Potter."

Ah, that was where the wind was blowing, Severus thought.

"And you think that I…"

"Yes. You were his best friend for so long. You'll know the feeling…"

"But, your brother…"

"Oh, yes. Ron knows the feeling even better, I suppose. He was always a bit envious of Harry when you were all at school… but I can't talk to Ron about it. I don't think he ever dealt with that feeling properly, anyway."

"You may have a point there," Severus muttered. He had been surprised to learn that the youngest male Weasley had decided to work with his brother at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. He was not surprised that the young man had finally decided not to follow his best friend into Auror training; that decision would have reduced him to the side-kick role for life––but the shop? That reeked too much of being the stand-in for the deceased Fred Weasley and certainly wasn't suitable as a means of getting on on one's own.

Ron Weasley seemed content with being second best. That was something Severus could not and would not understand or condone. He, himself, had always struggled so hard… and look where it had got him. He suppressed his thoughts and focussed on Ginny Potter instead, who was continuing with her rant.

"…You know, Hermione. Back at school, it was okay, but when I was picked to play for the Holyhead Harpies… was that because I'm good at Quidditch or was it because I dated the famous Harry Potter? Who do they see when they look at me? Does anyone see me, myself, at all?"

_Good question_, Severus considered. "Didn't you think about these things before you got married?" he asked. "As I recall, you were smitten by him from first sight. Have you ever been yourself? Haven't you always been mindful about what P… Harry does and wants?"

Ginny scowled. "That's not very friendly, Hermione. It was you who gave me the advice to date other boys to get over my infatuation, after all. Don't you remember?"

_Clever girl, Hermione_. Severus thought. Alas, all her efforts had been wasted. "You should have come to that conclusion yourself," he muttered.

"I've got there, now." Ginny glared at him. "I see that I can't expect much sympathy from you, though. Sorry for wasting your time." She jumped up from her chair and bent down to take her son from Severus' lap. Severus had completely forgotten that he was still holding him. The baby had quietened down after he had started to softly rock him on his knees and wiggle his fingers from time to time in front of the baby's face.

"Wait," he said. "Not so fast. You do have my sympathies." Severus surprised himself by telling the truth. "It's just that I don't know how to help…"

Ginny sat down again with a sigh.

Severus absentmindedly tickled James' stomach, which made the child giggle.

"You've improved," Ginny praised. "You're not doing half bad with him. Now we just need to teach you how to change nappies." She giggled at Severus-Hermione's shocked face.

"I think I can do without that particular skill," he ground out. "But to get back to your problem… It's not something you can shake off easily if you want to stay with your husband and child. Which you do, don't you?"

"Of course. I couldn't live without…"

"That's your first mistake, you know," Severus interrupted. "You _can_ live without, and you should be aware of that fact." _How well he knew that you could continue living without if you had to… But what kind of a life had it been, at least at first…_? "You need to stay independent, in mind and in deed. Which isn't easy, I realise, with one small child around and more of them planned, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yeah, we'd like two more. We want a proper family…"

"Don't you mean, Harry wants a proper family?"

Ginny sighed and closed her eyes. "I don't know," she whispered. "I want more than one child but not as many as my mother… and what you just said… Do you think Harry loves me…?" She swallowed, tears starting to form in her eyes now. "…Do you think he loves me because I'm a Weasley, because he loves my family, because I am the sister of his best friend?"

_Merlin help me_, Severus thought. _Why me? As if I were the person qualified to talk, with my past…_ But the young woman facing him didn't know that. "You could add to the equation that you're the same type his mother was," he said as gently as he could and raised his hand when he saw Ginny's shocked stare. "But while all of these factors are true, they aren't all-decisive, I don't think. Your background, your family, education and upbringing are part of what makes you who you are. But underneath all this, you are a strong, determined, sagacious and beautiful woman—likeable and loveable for who you are, for who you have become."

Severus thought that if he had to go on like that much longer, he'd be sick. He took a deep breath and continued, "Harry, just as much as you, is partly a product of his background and upbringing. His childhood years were spent in an abusive home."

_Just like my own_, he thought. "Your family was what he loved most about the magical world. And you represent a part of that, but is that something to be sorry about? The way you all stood up for each other, loved each other, the warmth… That's what Harry's never had but wanted so desperately." _Just as he had wanted Lily; it explained rather well what she had meant to him before they went to Hogwarts and everything changed. And when exactly had he started to analyse Potter and the similarities between them so thoroughly, anyway?_

"I understand that," Ginny murmured, "but it doesn't really help."

"When you fell in love with him as a child, what was it that made it so exclusive? Why him? Was it because he was special? Famous?"

"I don't know. Not really. When I first saw him at King's Cross, when he didn't know how to get onto Platform nine-and-three-quarters… he looked so lonely, so lost. No one had come with him: no parents or anyone. And he was cute. And so nice and gentle… We didn't know who he was at that time, but I think I fell in love with him right then."

"And when you learned who he was?"

"When I learned who he was, I became so shy around him that I became tongue-tied, as you well know. Until I started going out with other boys…"

"Who liked you just for who you are, didn't they?"

"Uh, yes, I suppose they did." Ginny smiled weakly.

"And so you dated other boys and got on the Gryffindor Quidditch team—all without being Potter's girlfriend, didn't you?" _Damn, Hermione wouldn't call him Potter, he needed to be more careful_.

Ginny frowned and opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, he continued, " You didn't need Harry for all this. And I am certain that the Holyhead Harpies wanted you because you're a great Chaser. They can't afford to take on a bad player just because she brings good publicity, can they?"

Ginny sighed and nodded. "They didn't complain about the added publicity, though."

"Of course not." Severus smirked. "Killing two birds with one stone and all that."

"Yes, I suppose…" Ginny said hesitantly. "So you think I have nothing to complain about?"

"I think it is about time that you reflected on these things," Severus replied. "But I don't think you need to worry. Unless…"

"Unless?"

"Unless you think you are deceiving yourself about Harry's love…?" _Like he had deceived himself about Lily's love but had refused to realise it until it had been too late for all of them…_

"I… no… I'm not. Harry is the kindest, most loving… No, I don't doubt his love. No." Ginny smiled. She suddenly looked very confident. "For him, it may not have been love at first sight, but boys usually take a bit longer to find out what's good for them." She giggled when she saw Severus' raised eyebrow. "You should know, you went after Ron all those years at school, and he just didn't get it… But anyway, to Harry, I was always special. A refuge from his horrible fate, someone to have fun with, someone precious…"

"Sounds good," Severus muttered, not really knowing how he should reply to that. He was the last person to give advice on how to keep the spark in a marriage alive. He sighed. He supposed love came in different shapes and forms, but what would he know about it? He had loved once and lost everything. He had to come close to death before he could finally let go. And now? Was his life any better now that he was no longer obsessed with Lily Evans? He supposed it was. He was now free of his two masters, and he had fulfilled his self-imposed obligation to a dead woman. As soon as he had known that Potter had received the information he needed, had known that he had done everything in his power to protect the young man, his obsession had died. He thought that he would die, too, but against all odds, a team of mediwizards and witches had managed to coax the little spark of life inside him back into a flame. A flame bound to sizzle and flicker in solitude—unlike the one of the young woman sitting opposite him.

"Well, at least now you know that you have what you want, but finding something to do that is exclusively yours and not associated with Harry wouldn't hurt, would it?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Think about it. Something may show up. Write Quidditch books, the Weasley memoirs, paint, chase magical creatures with Luna Lovegood, anything that takes your fancy."

Ginny laughed. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Hermione. You've helped me a great deal, you know."

"I have?" Severus was surprised but also pleased. Apparently, his ability to act and pretend hadn't left him completely after the war.

Ginny nodded, took her son from Severus' lap, stepped into the fireplace and disappeared.

Severus looked at the cuckoo clock on the wall. Only half an hour left before he could return to himself. Hermione should be here soon, he hoped. He sighed, looked at the file in front of him and commanded, "_Memorandum_!" He started dictating after a thin piece of parchment rose up from a drawer and floated in front of his eyes, immediately displaying every word he had spoken.

"_Finite_," Severus said when he'd finished. The paper folded itself into an aeroplane and swished out through a hidden flap in the door.

#######

Hermione stepped out of Severus' office and stalked towards the gents. Peeing was just too much fun as a man; she wanted to indulge one last time before she went back to being herself. And although she had, once or twice in the past, complained about boyfriends who didn't pee sitting down, she didn't either. It was just too much fun to take aim and hit.

She supposed that she'd have enjoyed peeing competitions if she had been a little boy. Painting yellow circles into the snow and seeing who had the best aim… she snorted. Being in a man's body wasn't bad at all. And it wasn't a bad body. Thin, strong, wiry and very flexible. And the other part, the one she'd just held in her hands to take aim, wasn't all that bad, either. But no, she wasn't going to get into that. She shook off, stowed Severus' member back into his pants and went to wash her hands. Did he wash his hands after…? Well, she certainly hoped so, and she would, in any case, out of character or not.

Walking back, she passed the Auror offices and walked all the way down to the end of the corridor where the room that had once been the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office was located. Misuse of Muggle Artefacts had been moved to the first level, and this half-forgotten room was now Severus' workplace—an office with a small potions laboratory attached to it.

Humming softly to herself––the corridor was deserted and no one would hear Severus Snape hum––she suddenly tripped over something and almost fell. Her calves stung… was that a Stinging hex? Where had that come from? She looked around but couldn't see anything or anyone. Shaking her head, she walked on, only to stop in her tracks when the lights went out and a vengeful sounding voice started to whisper threats.

"Watch it, Snape. Soon, you'll get what you deserve, very soon…" The candles along the wall flickered on and off and on again.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. She drew her wand, but a nonverbally cast _Homenum revelio_ showed nothing. She spun around, casting the spell in all directions––still nothing. Interesting. She wondered how that feat had been achieved and opened the door to Severus' office.

"_Expelliarmus! Levicorpus_!"

_Shit_! As soon as she had opened the door, her wand had flown out of her fingers, and she found herself hanging upside down. Struggling frantically against the spell that kept her floating, she tried to see who had hexed her, but to no avail.

"A bit careless today, aren't you, Snape? Isn't it nice being helpless, being at the mercy of others? Do you enjoy it?"

"Show yourself, you coward," Hermione grated, trying to rotate herself to get a look at her attacker, still without success.

"Coward, am I?" A dark-robed, hooded figure moved into her line of sight.

"Who are you? What…"

"Always the same little ritual, isn't it? Who I am is no concern of yours, Snape, and about the 'what'…" The figure snarled menacingly, "You shall learn soon enough about the 'what'. I haven't forgotten what you did, and I'll make pretty damn sure that you never forget, either. Even if all the rest of them pretend that you've done nothing, writing books about you as if you were important. I bet that makes you feel all uppity, doesn't it, Snape?"

"If I ever find out who you are, you'll regret this…"

The intruder laughed out loud. "You're making threats. How droll. You're in no position to make threats, you revolting, greasy liar. _Crucio_."

Hermione screamed, but obviously a Silencing Charm had been cast on the office. At least, that's what she thought. Why else would no one come to investigate? The pain was incredible and brought tears to her eyes and horrible memories of Malfoy Manor and Bellatrix Lestrange back to her mind. She struggled and writhed. Hanging upside down made the pain even more unbearable, if that was at all possible.

"That's not the end yet, Snape," the hooded figure hissed and ended the _Levicorpus_ spell. Hermione fell to the ground, still screaming and twitching, feeling as if her flesh would burn off her bones. "There'll be more of the same where that came from until it ends for good, one day," the attacker cackled nastily. "_Finite incantatem._"

The absence of pain almost felt unreal. Even breathing had been painful, and now Hermione spent a few minutes just pumping the air in and out of her lungs without the sensation of inhaling smoke, fire and hot vapour. Every breath of cool air revived her a bit more, but it seemed an eternity before Hermione felt capable of more than merely breathing. By the time she could sit up again, the intruder was long gone.

So that was why Severus often looked so done in. That was why she had found him unconscious in the lift more than once. And he had neither told anyone nor complained. She supposed that he normally did a better job at watching his back than she just had… but didn't the fact that he'd agreed to their little body-switching charade indicate that he was asking her for help––that he would have asked for help earlier if he had thought that someone would care enough to listen?

Well, he had found the right person. She would not look on. She would go to Harry and pester Percy until they had identified the attacker and arrested him. But there wasn't time now; the Polyjuice Potion would cease to function in five minutes—just enough time for her to get back to her own office. She stumbled to her feet and brushed Severus' robes down. With wobbly legs, her wand raised, she made her way to the staircase and up to the first level.

#######

"Are you all right?" Severus had jumped up from Hermione's chair when she stumbled into her office.

"Sure. Shouldn't I be?" She gave him a questioning look, wondering if he'd say anything or leave everything to her.

"People aren't always very, ah, friendly when I am around," he muttered. Did he look disappointed? She couldn't really tell.

"I think I may have met one or two of those," she said noncommittally and told him about the dead fish.

"Nitwits," Severus muttered.

"Does that happen often?"

"Occasionally," he admitted.

"And why isn't anyone putting a stop to it?"

"I'd have to file a complaint, and you don't really think that anyone would believe me, do you? I don't have proof; I don't have witnesses."

"But Harry saw…"

"Potter? Don't be ridiculous," Severus spat. "He is too much like his father to not enjoy a bit of Snape-baiting."

"Not Harry. No way." Hermione was shaking now. She had seen how Harry had just ordered her around as if the mess in Severus' office was normal, not even asking what had happened. He must know that something wasn't right… No. This couldn't be true. She had to talk to him…

Her train of thought was interrupted when the potion ceased its effect and the painful transformation back into her own body took place. Severus went through the same ordeal a moment later.

After flexing and straightening his shoulders, he glared at her and snarled, "As usual people are blind where the famous Harry Potter is concerned." He turned to the door. "Would you care for a pint? I'm paying."

"Sure," Hermione said meekly and followed him out of the office.

They made their way from the fireplace in the pub to the nearest free table in silence, Severus being always a step ahead of her on his long legs. He looked thoughtful and not very happy, but who had ever seen Severus Snape look happy? _Which isn't surprising after the life he's had_, she mused while watching him closely. About time that things changed, then. It hurt her heart to see him so downtrodden. He deserved recognition and peace just as much, or more, than anyone else who had helped defeat Voldemort. She wouldn't rest before he got his just rewards.

"So," Severus asked after they'd sat down. "When are you buying that barrel of beer for me?"

Hermione smirked. "Not so fast. Who says that I'm conceding defeat?"

"Aren't you?" Severus stared at her.

Was that despair she saw in his black eyes? Hope perhaps? She wasn't certain; she could just as well project something which she thought should be there if he was troubled. But he could just as easily be mocking her while having full control of his life. If she asked Harry and Ron, that's what they'd undoubtedly think. But somehow she didn't buy it. She had seen him hurt and troubled a lot during that last year. That wasn't mocking; that was suffering. And that attacker––he was serious. Even if Severus was able to watch his back better than she did, the attacker posed a real threat that had nothing to do with mocking. However, before she could help, she needed infallible proof: a witness…

"You know, every scientific experiment is only valid if it is performed more than once and shows similar results in repetitions. Before I concede anything, I'd like to spend another afternoon in your office, just to make sure that this prank scenario isn't some kind of trick of yours to make me buy the beer. Old Slytherin habits die hard, after all." She smirked, and he kept staring. Slowly, as if they had to overcome some fierce resistance, the corners of his mouth moved upwards.

"Are you certain?" Severus eyes narrowed while he studied her face. Hermione had been a lousy liar back at school; he had always been able to see right through her. She hadn't changed. Concern was lying under the nonchalance, and the supposedly carefree smile was forced. He almost regretted not being able to talk to her frankly, but that would have seemed like too much manipulation. The Aurors would never buy it. The complaint had to come from her, of her own free will, then her testimony would be acknowledged. And it looked like she had understood this well enough. She neither seemed upset by his sly way of asking for help nor did she seem reluctant to help. She was even keeping his privacy and dignity intact by not asking unnecessary questions. He suddenly felt very proud of her, or whatever that feeling was that made his heart feel free and his mind whirl. Hermione Granger: always fighting for lost causes. How appropriate. He suddenly felt able to breathe easier.

"Absolutely," Hermione confirmed. "So how has it been, being me?" And Severus told her.

#######

"Harry, you have to help me."

"What is it, Hermione?" Her friend looked up from his paperwork, green eyes shining behind his glasses.

"It's about Snape. I can't believe you're pretending that nothing's going on. How could you?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Harry wasn't a very good liar, Hermione thought. He looked sheepish. She'd almost always been able to see right through his lies.

"I'll tell you what I mean," she snarled and told him about the afternoon in Snape's office.

"I didn't know anything about someone actually attacking him, Hermione, honest. I just thought someone was getting a bit of petty revenge and playing pranks," Harry said, staring at her wide-eyed and sincere. "I didn't think much by it. Snape isn't a pleasant man, and he usually gives as good as he gets."

"Did it ever occur to you and your, ah, colleagues, that he might not 'give' if he didn't 'get'? Why can't you let him live in peace? He shouldn't be forced to work for the Ministry, anyway, not under these conditions. What a waste, Harry. We all could profit so much from his knowledge…"

Hermione stared sadly at her friend, who stubbornly shook his head. "We don't need him to teach us anything. I mean, I appreciate what he has done for us, and with my mum and all that, but… "

"You should listen to yourself, Harry. You sound dangerously like your father in those Pensieve memories you showed me. Remember? You used to be get so upset when you realised that your dad and Sirius were bullies and not even Remus did anything to stop them. And now _you_ do nothing when you see that same man being attacked again. That's not only cowardly from a personal point of view, it's horribly unprofessional. You're his superior, in a manner of speaking. You should not allow things like this to happen."

Harry sighed. "The comparison with my dad stinks. I haven't really done anything. What is it to you, anyway?"

"I see someone I respect and admire––yes, admire––being treated badly. He is a hero, Harry. You called him that yourself when you thought he had died. How is it that a dead man can be a hero, and when that same man survives, he can be allowed to be bullied and threatened?"

"And what exactly do you think I can do about this? People have their reasons to want to get back at Snape. He taught many a Hogwarts' student, and none of them have reason to love him. "

"Not everyone is as childish as that. Many people hold grudges towards a teacher who they think treated them badly, but eventually most of them grow out of it. This hooded guy means business, Harry. He knows exactly what he's doing, and he's planning his actions. He is dangerous."

"And what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to help me get proof and catch him, if possible. My Pensive memory from yesterday won't be enough for anything. I've talked to Percy, and he doesn't even want to see it. Proper procedure now is that you must have a witness to confirm what's shown in your Pensieve memory—to rule out manipulation. Then you can use it as evidence before the Wizengamot. I need you to come along tomorrow afternoon— under your Invisibility Cloak."

Harry frowned. "And you think that hooded bloke will try and attack Snape again?"

"I'm quite certain. That attack wasn't the first of its kind. And to be frank, I'd feel better if you were around, Harry. I'm not too keen on having to experience the Cruciatus Curse again. Who knows what he'll come up with next time?"

"All right, I'll come, if only to protect you. I really don't think there's much to be worried about regarding Snape. But we shall see…"

"Thank you, Harry." Hermione beamed, hugged her best friend and left.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you to my beta reader, Melusin. This story is as much a gift for her as it is for the recipient._

_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"But if Snape really is such a bad sort, why would Harry Potter protect him?" I ask Rita when we've finished discussing the chapter about revenge.

"Are you really such an innocent?" Rita asks and raises one of her perfectly pencilled eyebrows. "There is, of course, the issue of Harry's mother."

"Yes," I say. Everyone knows that Snape once loved Harry's mother, after all. Harry himself screamed it at Voldemort, trying to distract his powerful enemy. "So what? Most of us had teenage crushes." I tell her how fondly I remember my own infatuation with Ronald Weasley, a fellow war hero, during our sixth year at school together. And today, Ron is engaged to Gabrielle Delacour, and I am dating Oliver Wood. If Hermione Granger, also present during the final battle, hadn't constantly meddled, who knows where Ron and my romance would have led… But we both got over it, moved on and are happier now than we ever were.

"Ah––Hermione Granger. I'll tell you a secret…" Rita looks at me conspiratorially. "Hermione Granger could have been the subject of one of my books, too. There's a lot to write about, and I know a few people who would be more than keen to spill the beans on her machinations. But there are reasons…" She leaves the rest of the sentence open.

I smile. "Maybe her importance is overrated," I say. "Let's get back to Severus Snape. Didn't you imply earlier that he might have been in a relationship with Albus Dumbledore?"

"Some of the evidence I uncovered did point towards that possibility, yes. But another reliable source––and some portraits of former Hogwarts' headmasters can be considered quite reliable––claims that Snape's love for Lily Potter was what drove him all his life—what made him work for Dumbledore. Of course, an all-embracing, romantic love like that had to be unrequited. It certainly prevented Snape form entering into another relationship. If Dumbledore had hopes for a young lover, he had to look elsewhere…" Rita smirks; everyone knows her theory about Dumbledore and Harry Potter.

"So, in the end, if what Harry Potter says is true, we may have to thank Lily Potter for the downfall of Voldemort because without Snape's undying love for her, nothing of what he did would have happened, and Harry Potter would not have survived his first year at Hogwarts," she continues.

"How so?" I choke out, swallowing down my tears. Who would have thought that Snape's story could be so romantic?

"If what Harry Potter tells us is true, then Snape saved Harry's life on several occasions. He protected the son of the woman he loved. And the man himself is doomed to lead a loveless life in solitude. Maybe he does deserve a bit of a respite; what do you think?"

I wipe my eyes and focus on the last of the three chapters open to our Prophet readers. Talking about Severus Snape's love life brings us right into _Chapter 4: Love or Lust?_

… … …

#######

Severus sat at Hermione's desk worrying. Maybe it had been a mistake to indirectly ask for help. The idea had come to him while he was out drinking with Hermione. He hadn't been drunk at that time, but certainly he'd been a bit less inhibited than normal.

And so he had let her see a glimpse of his life as it really was and trusted that she'd act accordingly after she understood the implications. She didn't disappoint. She never did. When Hermione Granger took on a mission, you could be certain that she'd follow through with it to the bitter end. She never gave up, even if it took years. The current public debate about house-elf rights was the best proof for that.

She really had sneaked herself into his life, he thought fondly. Sharing a pint or two (and sometimes four or five) with Hermione Granger had become his escape from the daily routine, from the sad state his life was in. There was no other escape; he had no hopes to ever be released from Ministry custody. Not under the current administration. Not as long as so many people remembered him from Hogwarts and found that the current state of affairs gave them ample opportunity to get back at the hated teacher, colleague or traitor. _That's what comes from falling between two stools_, he thought bitterly.

But Hermione had taken on his case with a vengeance, with a passion that was uniquely hers. He sighed. She was a force to be reckoned with; whoever was behind these attacks wouldn't stand a chance. But Severus couldn't stop worrying despite all his rationalisations. Hermione was a fighter, true. She had fought valiantly during the war; she was a heroine, for crying out loud. And still… she was human and humans make mistakes. He sincerely hoped that she had taken Potter or Weasley along—to cover her back. He couldn't stand the idea that she could be hurt while fighting for him. He should never have allowed it. He should go and protect her––and be cursed from here to next week. If he ran to the rescue like some valiant knight––a dark knight?––then he'd reveal their body swap. He'd reveal having asked for help, and he'd imply that Hermione wasn't strong enough to hold her own in a fight. She'd never forgive him for that. He ground his teeth, rubbed his eyes and picked up the next file from the ever-growing pile on her desk.

Hermione had become far too important to him. He couldn't think straight; he had almost let his emotions rule his actions just then. He'd better get a grip on himself. He opened the file. Griphook the Goblin scowled at him from an application form.

That wand thing again? Severus was surprised. He didn't think that the Goblins were being that persistent this time. Failed attempts at being allowed to use wands had been made many times in the past, after all. But in the past, they didn't have Hermione to fight for them, he thought fondly. Merlin, that woman was dedicated. How he loved…

_What?_

No, this couldn't be happening. He couldn't possibly have got rid of one obsession to sail right into the next. _How he loved her? Did he? Yes, he did_, he admitted with a long-suffering sigh. And he steeled himself for another round of unrequited love and heartache. At least this time around, he wouldn't betray his love and cause her death. He hoped.

#######

Hermione sat at Severus' desk worrying. Almost all of the afternoon had passed already, and nothing untoward had happened. What if the attacker didn't show up? His threat from the other day had sounded so real. She'd just have to be patient, and if nothing happened today, she'd have to coax Harry into another afternoon of watching. Or perhaps, she could ask Ron to come along; she didn't think Harry'd agree to help her a second time if this afternoon didn't show results. As an Auror, though, he would be used to stakeouts and should have some patience, but she strongly suspected that he had fallen asleep by now while sitting on the floor under his Invisibility Cloak, leaning against the wall.

A quick glance at the cuckoo clock showed her that there was only one hour left. Well, she'd get a little fun out of being in a man's body and go to the loo. Perhaps that might provoke her attacker again. If not, she'd just sit through the rest of the time and plan how she was going to proceed from here.

When she came out of the cubicle—she couldn't bring herself to use a urinal—she washed her hands and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She had really grown fond of Severus' face; she couldn't see anything ugly there. His eyes, when they weren't narrowed or glaring, were downright beautiful.

Baring his teeth, she was continuing her inspection when she felt a wand at her back.

"Surprise!" The voice was rough from excitement. "Look who we have here. If it isn't the greasy git admiring his yellow, crooked teeth. What are you doing that for, eh, Snape? Trying to impress the ladies?"

Hermione watched in the mirror as the dark-robed, hooded wizard threw his head back and laughed out loud. His face was covered with a balaclava; she couldn't recognize him, nor the rough, grating voice. She used the moment of his inattention and dived for the door.

"Not so fast," the figure yelled, but she had already opened the door and darted through it, not caring if anyone saw her. She felt the hairs rise on her neck and goose pimples running down her spine, expecting a curse at any moment… but nothing came. Gasping, she reached the door to Severus' office, stormed in and slammed it shut. Letting out a long breath with a loud hiss, she fumbled for her wand and turned around to face the door. She had only reset Severus' basic wards. Intruders could get in if they wanted to. Unfortunately, nothing happened.

Shaking and swearing loudly, she sat down again, wondering if the commotion had woken Harry up. They had agreed not to talk to each other so not to give his presence away. Sighing in frustration, she'd just returned to sorting the Dark Curse archive alphabetically when the memo flap in the door opened, and a Ministry owl flew in. It dropped a small parcel on the desk, hooted mournfully and left the same way it had come.

Hermione prodded the parcel with her wand, casting every curse-revealing charm on it she could think of. Nothing. Apparently, the parcel was safe. "Looks like I can open the parcel safely," she said louder than necessary, hoping that Harry was watching and listening. The wrapping paper revealed a small box. The box contained a letter. She opened it, growing deadly pale while reading:

"_Snape,_

_Aren't you lucky? I saw you sitting with your little girlfriend in the pub. Now, isn't that nice: the greasy git and the know-it-all? Say, does she lecture you while you do her, wagging her finger in front of your nose? No? Does she know how to use her tongue and fingers for other things than talking incessantly? Yes? My, my…_

_"Speaking of fingers, I've sent you one of hers. Another part of her will come tomorrow and the next day, and the next… I wonder what it will be? Another finger? Or an ear? Her tongue perhaps? You shall see, Snape._"

Hermione dropped the letter as if it had burnt her hands and turned the box over. A human finger fell out, neatly separated from the hand just above the first knuckle, barely coagulated blood dripping from it in big, lumpy drops.

With a gagging sound, she levitated the finger and looked closely. It did indeed look like one of hers. How?

Severus! They must have got hold of him while being in her body, and now they'd used him to… to what? To instigate sheer terror? She wasn't given instructions or a choice of any kind. There was a threat but no blackmail in that letter. She jumped up and ran to the door, waving the protective spell away while she pulled it open. She'd have to get to her office and see if Severus was harmed…

"_Expelliarmus! Levicorpus!_ Got you!" a voice yelled, and the same dark-robed and hooded figure who had threatened her in the bathroom stormed into the office.

Hermione, however, cast a powerfull shield spell against the intruder, and his spells bounced off, causing the shield to emit a loud booming sound.

The attacker, in turn, retaliated by casting a barrage of hexes and curses her way, and she couldn't ward all of them off. A Leg-Locker curse knocked her to the ground, and while she was trying to break the fall, another "_Expelliarmus!"_ almost made her wand slip from her fingers. Dammit, where was Harry?

"Off to check on your little girlfriend, weren't you, Snape? All upset and excited. Why else would you be so careless, hm? It's almost too easy, and there's me thinking you were such a strong wizard. Where's the fun in this? _Cru…_"

"_Expelliarmus!_" Finally Harry had decided to join the fight, but the attacker held fast to his wand and warded off Harry's spell nonchalantly.

"Potter? Well, too bad you got involved. We can't have that, _Sectumsempra!_" And while Harry jumped to the side, the phantom attacked Hermione again with another Cruciatus Curse which she barely escaped by diving behind the overturned chair at her desk.

"Enough," Harry gasped out and raised his wand, but the other wizard hid behind the filing cabinet. He cast spell after spell at Hermione, who was too busy protecting herself to have time to attack. She carefully moved to the other side of her desk to get a better aim at the attacker. Suddenly, the dark-robed wizard turned towards Harry and hissed, "_Avada…_"

"_Stupefy!_" Hermione had cast the spell with all her might, finally having a clear aim, while Harry had Disapparated from the spot he'd been in and Apparated a moment later right beside the attacker. But further action wasn't required; the attacker fell to the floor like a rag doll, his wand slipping out of his unfeeling fingers and clattering to the floor. A few green sparks shot out of its tip and sizzled off harmlessly.

"Dammit, Harry. Why did you wait so long? Are you all right?" Hermione screamed.

"I'm fine, but I wanted to see how far this creep would go…"

"He almost killed you!"

"I'm an Auror. Give me some credit," Harry hissed and approached the figure on the floor, prodding him with the tip of his boot. When nothing happened, he pulled the balaclava off.

"Michael Corner?" Hermione gasped.

"Bloody hell," Harry swore. "One of the best Hit Wizards we have. What's got into him?"

Hermione stared at the young man who had been in their year at Hogwarts. He'd been a Ravenclaw.

"He wanted revenge. Isn't he the one who was so horribly tortured by the Carrows? He must have held Severus responsible…"

"Could be," Harry said angrily. "But be that as it may, he either belongs in Azkaban or St. Mungo's," he ground out through clenched teeth. "Our combined memories and statements should be enough, even for Percy…"

"Oh, my God! I need to go and see if Severus is still in my office. That finger there… I hope that wasn't his."

"You go. I'll get Corner here into a cell," Harry said. "But be careful. We don't know if there are any others on his side. And Hermione?"

"What?" Impatience made her voice tremble. She wanted to get to Severus.

"Sorry for not taking you, or Snape, seriously."

"As long as you do it now, it's all right," she shouted while running down the corridor. With Severus' long legs, it didn't take long before she reached the stairs.

#######

Severus distracted himself from worrying by reading Hermione's Goblins' rights proposal. This wasn't bad, he thought. Not bad at all.

The Goblins wanted to be allowed to use wands and finally be on the same level as wizarding people. In exchange, they would agree to a formal alliance with wizardkind, a kind of a magical community. They would accept that Goblin-made items that had been sold through the ages would be lost to the Goblins and remain in the possession of the wizarding families who had initially bought them. Everything purchased after the war would come with an irrefutable contract. It was a simple matter of money; the Goblins were only too willing to give an item up forever when the price was right.

Severus thought that this was an excellent proposal; almost all the advantages were on the side of wizardkind. Even an idiot like Percy Weasley would see that, surely?

Granting Goblins the right to carry wands would make them dangerous, but not more so than any other powerful magical creatures, and a good contract and alliance with them would be invaluable if ever another Dark Wizard wanted to take over the peaceful part of the wizarding world. Besides, someone who had control over all the money in their society had better be part of that society and acknowledged as such. Otherwise, the blackmail factor was simply too great. The mischievous Goblin contracts of old would end with the signing of the agreement, and future sale or lease contracts would clearly indicate the terms of possession of an item without any doubts or second-guessing.

If the Ministry disagreed, the Goblins would get hold of wands eventually, anyway, but then they would be angry, and there would be bloodshed and a new Goblin war, eventually. Nothing good could come out of it. Goblins had shown on more than one occasion that they could use wands to great effect, and Hodrod the Horny-Handed had gathered quite a following.

Severus sighed. Hermione had good ideas. She had come far; there was nothing left that resembled the half-baked, spontaneous activism she had shown in her school years. What remained was her passion for the cause, the desire to help those who were at a disadvantage, who needed someone to speak for them. Like him.

This brought him back to worrying. Another deep sigh. There were twenty minutes left. He couldn't sit still any longer and started pacing up and down, being torn between the wish to run downstairs and check on Hermione's well-being and the wish to not get on her bad side.

A knock on the door roused him from his wool-gathering.

"Yes," he barked.

"Hermione!" A young wizard entered the office. "You look charming. How good it is to see you again. Why didn't you answer my owls?"

"Uh," Severus said.

"We could have spent a lovely weekend at Uncle Tiberius' cottage together, you know. But we shall remedy that. I've made reservations at San Lorenzo's in Diagon Alley. We'll have dinner tonight. Go and make yourself pretty, and we'll leave."

"In your dreams," Severus spat. "Who do you think you are, ordering me around like that?" Severus had a good idea who it could be. Hermione had warned him not to agree to anything Cormac McLaggen suggested. That wasn't difficult, he thought. The twit was insufferably overconfident.

"Don't play hard-to-get with me, Hermione. Haven't I courted you long enough, now? Come kiss me and have done with it." McLaggen arrogantly stalked towards Severus, grabbed him by the arms and bent down to kiss him.

Severus had had enough. He tried to shove the oaf off him, but the jerk was too strong. Dammit, he hadn't accounted for the difference in stature. Hermione wasn't exactly short, and she always appeared so strong. From what he remembered, she wasn't shy about using her strength, either.

"Geroff me," Severus hissed and kicked McLaggen's shin. He didn't quite want to seriously hurt the other wizard, not knowing on how friendly or unfriendly terms Hermione wanted to remain with the twerp. If it were up to him, though, McLaggen would find himself bundled up in the next rubbish bin, but he thought it better to try and get out of this without alienating Hermione's acquaintances.

"Ouch!" McLaggen exclaimed, his face twisted into an ugly, angry grimace. "Are you mad?" His face came very close to Severus', his nose almost touching him. McLaggen's hands were still clamped around Severus' upper arms, roughly shaking his whole female frame. Severus now seriously tried to get away from the madman. If he only could get to his wand…

"Don't struggle. I won't leave here without my kiss, Hermione. I've had it. You don't know what's good for you. You need a strong man who'll take care of you. Kiss me, and everything will be fine."

Severus spat into McLaggen's face and got slapped hard in return. He felt his left eye swelling.

"You bitch," McLaggen snarled. "You'll regret that. I won't be led around by the nose by anyone, not even the famous Hermione Granger."

He looked Severus up and down. "Want to play it rough, little girl? You can have that." He pushed Severus backwards, who stumbled and fell. Before he could draw his wand, however, _Damn these short arms and tight sleeves of Hermione's robes!_ McLaggen had disarmed him, bound him with magical ropes and closed in on him once again.

For the first time in a long time, Severus was afraid. He had never realised how threatening a man could be when seen from a woman's point of view. This was different from a child's point of view and just as frightening. How could his careful avoidance of hurting the brute lead to him being overpowered so easily?

"Help!" he screamed. "Someone help me."

But McLaggen cast a Silencing Charm on the door and laughed. "If you want to get to know me the hard way, little girl, who am I to refuse?" He laughed again and closed in.

Severus frantically struggled backwards, still screaming for help until another blow to his face silenced him. His lip was split. Shit.

"You're sexy when you're angry, Hermione," McLaggen sneered, grabbed Severus' breasts and squeezed them painfully before kissing him on the lips, retreating quickly enough to avoid being bitten.

Severus struggled madly and considered throwing up on McLaggen's custom-made shoes. That kiss had made him feel very sick.

"Don't worry," McLaggen continued. "You won't remember a thing."

"Don't be so sure of that. _Petrificus Totalus!_"

Wide-eyed in surprise, McLaggen slowly fell to his side, stiff as a log.

Relieved beyond words, Severus saw just how frightening he himself looked when he hovered over someone in anger. His face––well, technically still Hermione's face––was twisted, his eyes glittered dangerously, and his crooked teeth, when bared, weren't a pretty sight.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, releasing Severus from his restraints.

"As well as can be expected under the circumstances," Severus said, relief making his voice tremble.

"What do you want me to do with him? Kill him?" Hermione circled the Petrified wizard.

"We would be doing witches all over the world a favour," Severus mused. "But I'll leave it up to you."

"Killing is a bit frowned upon, as I recall. Maybe a permanent impotence hex is the better option. We'll decide later," Hermione suggested, some traitorous bumps on her skin indicating the immediate reversal into her original form. She waved her wand over McLaggen and banished him into the stationary cupboard in the corner.

"There, he can remain there until we decide what to do with him." she said, and then gasped because the transformation was in full swing now. Severus felt it coming on, too, and for several minutes, they both felt too sick to talk.

When they were back in their own bodies, Hermione knelt before him and examined his black eye and split lip. She carefully stroked and probed the injured area, which sent a shiver down Severus' spine that had nothing to do with the pain.

"You'll be good as new in a minute," Hermione muttered and waved her wand. A series of healing charms later, and the split lip was gone and his eye didn't feel swollen any longer.

"There," Hermione said. "All is as it should be." She softly touched his face again, and he gasped. She stilled the movement of her fingers for a moment and stared into his eyes before she slowly finished the caress. A slight smile lit up her face.

"I was so worried about you, Severus. Show me your hands."

He did, wondering what she was up to.

She took both of his hands in hers and looked at them from all sides. She let out a relieved breath before she let his hands go. "Good, everything is in its place."

"Did you have reason to doubt that?" he asked, wondering what had happened to her this afternoon.

"I did indeed," she said. "But I don't want to talk about it. Not here and now. Let's get out of here, shall we?"

Severus nodded, and she took his hand and Apparated both of them to her flat.

#######

"Michael Corner? I can't even recall what he looks like," Severus admitted after they had told each other what had transpired in their respective offices.

"He is an unregistered Animagus. That's how he could evade the Homenum revelio and terrorize you," Hermione explained. Harry had sent her a Patronus with the information as soon as he had finished questioning Corner. He had also released McLaggen from the cupboard and taken him into custody.

"But that's over now. Corner's been arrested, and Harry and my testimonies will be enough to cause a stir. Percy won't like it, but he has no choice in the matter any longer. It's going before the Wizengamot."

Severus sighed. "I have to thank you."

Hermione smiled. "It was clever of you to ask for help that way. Anything else would have failed, most likely."

Severus felt elated. He had known it; she was a clever witch. "You saw right through me, Miss Granger, didn't you?"

"Don't you Miss Granger me, after all we've been through. I'm very glad I could help you. You should get your full wizarding rights back now, too, very soon."

Severus closed his eyes and breathed deeply. To be free at last…

"I suppose you'll want to leave the Ministry, then," Hermione said softly. "I'll miss seeing you every day."

"Will you?" He opened his eyes again and was surprised to see her face very close to his. Her beautiful, soft, brown eyes were glittering. Were those tears? For him? He caught his breath and held her gaze.

Hermione couldn't look away. She'd never seen Severus so approachable, vulnerable even. If he hadn't been brutally attacked this afternoon, she'd have boldly kissed him right then, but she thought that he'd had to ward off enough unwanted attention for one day, completely forgetting that she'd been through quite a fight as well.

"I would so like to kiss you now," she whispered.

"I won't object," he rasped.

And so she kissed him. Finally. She hadn't known that she'd wanted to do this so desperately until now but looking into his dark eyes had suddenly shown her what her heart had known for a while already: she was falling for Severus Snape, and she was falling hard.

The kiss grew more passionate. While her tongue explored his mouth and circled and twisted around his, she was wondering how someone with such an acerbic tongue could taste and smell so sweet. Her hands moved to the buttons on his robes, trying to snap them open, disregarding the sting of the stubborn things that wouldn't budge. "Get that off," she gasped between kisses.

"Are you sure?" His voice sounded extremely sexy. It wasn't smooth and silky as usual but sounded rough and raw, full of passion and desire.

"Uh-huh." She didn't really feel very eloquent at the moment. "I want you, all of you, now."

"Very well," he murmured and helped her in getting the buttons out of their holes.

With a bit of struggling, they both managed to shrug out of their robes and then stood before each other only clad in their underwear.

Hermione stared. She knew his body well, and he hers, but this perspective was very different from actually being in the other's body. Admiringly, she let her eyes wander over his wiry frame, the well-toned muscles and the long limbs. His pants were tented. He was enjoying this, too. Perfect.

Closing in, she attached herself to his mouth again, rubbing herself against him. He sighed. "Contraception?" he gasped out between kisses.

"Potion. No need to cast the charm," she murmured into his mouth. His hands were all over her now, and such lovely, deft hands they were.

"Look at me," he whispered. "I want to see you."

She opened her eyes and stared. He held her gaze and stroked her cheek, then followed his hands with his lips, always lifting his head and staring at her in-between kisses. She soon lost all grasp on reality and gave in to the sensations his hands and lips were causing. He seemed to know exactly where to touch her. When his hands moved to her back, slightly grazing her shoulder blades and then unclasping her bra, she couldn't stand it any longer. She ripped the bra off and thrust her breasts into his hands.

He moaned, kneading them softly––he remembered how painful McLaggen's rough treatment of them had felt––and bent his head to kiss her again. She pressed herself against him, revelling in his warmth. His hands wandered down her lower back until he reached her panties. He slowly pushed them down, briefly kneaded her buttocks and then closed in on her clit with one hand, all the while staring into her eyes, breathing fast, mouth slightly open.

Merlin, he looked so sexy. She moaned loudly when he hit her most sensitive spot. "Severus! I want you now. Please…"

Stepping out of his own pants, he softly pushed her to the floor––they hadn't made it to the bedroom––and after a brief glimpse at his very eager member, she spread her legs wide. "Now. Hard," she gasped.

Fumbling a bit, he knelt down and slowly entered her. The feeling was heavenly.

"Move," she commanded.

"Bossy, aren't you?" he grunted. "Look at me, Hermione."

She stared up into his eyes and saw them slowly glazing over as he moved in and out of her. She raised her hips and met each of his thrusts, not caring about the slight burning sensation of the carpet on her back.

"Faster," she whispered. He complied.

It didn't take long before she started to keen. "Keep going. Keep going," she ordered.

He was gasping loudly now, but followed her orders. "Look at me," he commanded again between clenched teeth.

"Good, good," she choked out, wishing that he'd touch exactly that spot a bit more firmly to push her over the edge. Crying out in surprise, she realised that he'd done exactly that a heartbeat later.

"Merlin, yes! Oh, Severus. Oh, love!" she praised, letting herself drown in the sensations, clenching his cock with her cunt and urging him to pump faster.

He was still thrusting steadily, his eyes now closed, his breathing strained.

"Come with me," she gasped, still riding the aftershocks of a wonderful orgasm. "What are you waiting for?"

"All right?" he asked, a bit insecurely and started to move very fast and a bit erratically. He was still trying to maintain eye contact but was carried away when his own orgasm hit.

Severus was silent while he came. His breathing became very fast and his face flushed––a lovely sight, Hermione found––but he neither cried out nor uttered anything else. Shy, she thought, and yet he was so skilled at making love. He did all the right things at the right time, almost as if he could read her mind.

_What?_

She stared at the back of his head. He had collapsed on top of her but held his weight on his elbows, trying not to crush her. Considerate, she thought, not quite knowing if she should be amused or angry. The git had used Legilimency on her.

When he finally raised his head and looked at her again, she smirked. "You don't leave much to chance, do you?"

"What do you mean?

"What would you have done if I had learned Occlumency?"

"Uhm… I… I just wanted to know if I was doing things right." He looked sheepish. Hermione couldn't believe it. Severus Snape looked sheepish. She blinked.

"What's wrong with just asking?"

He sighed, rolling off her to the side. He propped his head up on his elbow and gently caressed her stomach. "Don't you think that too much talking would have ruined the mood?"

"A bit of asking wouldn't have ruined the mood, I don't think. Surely you're aware of how sexy your voice is? And you can ask with your eyes closed. For Legilimency, you need them open, and it's an intrusion. It may not be well received, under the circumstances."

"Yes, but…"

"But?"

Severus swallowed hard. Telling her the truth would make him vulnerable. He would be giving her ammunition to ridicule him.

Hermione's slender, nimble fingers were caressing his lips and moving up and down his jaw line while she stared at him expectantly. Her touch unnerved him. He couldn't think clearly when she was touching him.

"But––" he whispered in resignation. "But with my constant asking, it would really have killed the mood. And I would have had to ask constantly…"

He didn't dare to look into her eyes and spoke to her breasts instead. "…I would have had to ask constantly because I've never done it before."

Hermione's hand stilled. He steeled himself for her laughter.

It didn't come. Instead, her hand firmly grabbed his chin and raised his head until he had to look into her face. He narrowed his eyes and scowled.

"I didn't expect this, Severus." Hermione looked stricken. "If you'd told me, I would have made more of an effort and not jumped you so unceremoniously."

"What?" Severus let out a choked laugh, relief at her words making him feel light-headed. "You didn't jump me…"

"I didn't spend much time with foreplay, either, or with exploring what you like, or showing you what I like."

She paused and studied his face. He felt oddly young again, like a schoolboy up for evaluation.

"You know, there's only one way to remedy my oversight," she continued.

"And that is?"

"We'll have to do it again." She grinned. "If you like."

"If **I** like? And what about you?"

"What about me? I enjoyed every minute, and I have no doubts that whatever else you'll chose to do to me, or with me, will be equally enjoyable. You may be new to this, but there is dedication and talent." She smirked again.

"You impudent little––," he grumbled. "Bossy and insolent. You'll have to teach me…"

"There's enough I haven't tried yet. We can learn together." Her smirk had transformed into a soft smile. She sat up and kissed him again.

Severus leaned into the kiss, savouring the feel, taste and smell of her, hardly able to believe his good fortune. Hermione was kissing him. Hermione had made love with him and wanted to do it again. With him, the ugly, greasy, unpleasant git.

"How can you stand it? I don't get it…" he murmured and took her hand, massaging her palm and softly stroking her fingers. Such a fragile hand. Fragile but strong, just like the rest of her. And yet, when he had been in her body, her strength hadn't been sufficient to keep McLaggen away.

"What do you mean?" She looked puzzled.

"When I was in your body, and McLaggen was beating me, I was afraid, really afraid," he admitted. "At first, I didn't want to hurt him because he is your acquaintance, but then it was too late. He was just so much stronger and willing to use that strength. And I felt helpless, powerless, and whatever I did and said made him even angrier."

Hermione nodded. "That's what many women suffer from men, even from the ones they love."

"I know," he said. "How can you live with us?"

"Because, luckily, you're not all like that. There are some acceptable specimens out there, and I think you might just be one of them." She winked. "And you're exciting, too. Things you find scary and repulsive from a hated man can excite you from a beloved one."

She didn't look at him but stroked his biceps slightly, biting her lip. He waited, wondering if she'd say more. When nothing came, he thought he'd have to inquire further.

"A beloved man?"

"Yes. I see no point in hiding it. I know that you still love Lily, but over time, perhaps…" Hermione sighed.

"You needn't be worried about that," Severus said softly and stroked her cheek.

"No?"

"No. But you were trying to tell me the difference between scary and exciting things…"

Hermione knew that they'd have to tackle the 'Lily-issue' again between them, but his assurance was good enough for her for now. "You know, if you don't believe me, we could just take another dose of Polyjuice…"

"Oh." Severus blinked. "You mean you want to make love to yourself?"

"No, to you, but what better way to show each other exactly what we like? It would be a first for me, too, you know." A frown had crept onto her forehead, and her eyes had lost their self-assured gleam. "Unless the idea is so repulsive to you…"

"Of course not," he protested. "I enjoyed being in your body. I could have played with your breasts all day long if I hadn't had to work."

That got her laughing. Much better, Severus thought and admiringly stared at her posterior while she walked to the kitchen to get two more phials of the potion.

"You made this batch because you saw me being so miserable, didn't you?" he accused her.

"Yes," she said. "You looked more and more defeated each time I saw you. And I had thought you'd want me to…"

"I did. And at the same time, didn't. That's why I mostly left it up to you. And, as usual, you did not disappoint."

"Cheers," she said and raised her phial after she had thrown one of his hairs in. He did likewise, and a few moments later, they were staring at each other's transformed faces.

"And now?" he asked.

"Why not start with kisses?"

Severus felt slightly claustrophobic when he saw his own tall frame lumber over his, Hermione's, smaller body. The way she stared down at him was anything but threatening, though, and when his ugly mug came closer, he stopped wondering about his huge nose and enjoyed the sensations his, no, her hands elicited on his body wherever they roamed and touched. And his lips did feel soft and sensual despite being so thin… and most surprisingly, he tasted good, and then he gave up thinking all together.

Hermione found that making love as a man was less fun than making love as a woman. The sensations were fast and immediate, and she had to mentally cool herself down repeatedly to not come and be done with it before she was ready..

It was a consolation, however, that she knew exactly where and how to touch Severus to make him squirm and gasp for more.

"Dammit, this is good," he breathed out. "I wish this could go on forever."

"Sorry, I won't last long enough for that," Hermione panted. His hands and lips knew exactly what to do to his––now her––cock, as well, and she felt herself close to the brink more than once.

"I want to fuck you now," she choked out when she couldn't stand it any longer.

"Bossy, no matter what shape you're in," he gasped, voice shaking from barely suppressed laughter, and then he only muttered incoherently when she entered him. This was so different from the quick and lonely experiments of his youth. He enjoyed the stretching sensation and wound his legs around Hermione's narrow hips. She laughed and steadied his thighs, thrusting slowly at first but soon finding a fast and forceful rhythm.

He watched in fascination how she screwed up her face in concentration. One of her hands had moved to his clit and had started stroking it.

"Can't last much longer," she groaned.

"No need to," he whispered before he let himself fall, his eyes wide open.

"Oh, yes!" she cried in triumph when she felt his orgasm rise and the muscles of his vagina clench her cock. "Merlin!" she bellowed––and then Severus neither heard nor saw anything for a long time because his lower body seemed to combust, and he felt her last few erratic thrusts result in a forceful expulsion of sperm inside him.

His knees trembled when she let go of his thighs and collapsed on top of him. She, he, was surprisingly heavy, and he was glad that he had remembered to put his weight on his elbows earlier.

"There's a lot more to explore in that venue, as well," she finally said when she was able to talk again.

"Ever the researcher," he mumbled, snuggling up to her taller frame. That felt very good.

"You know, you feel good whatever shape you're in. I don't care if you're a man, a woman or a cat," he mumbled, feeling very smug when he felt her body vibrate from her surprised laughter. He could make her laugh. Maybe this, whatever this was, could really go somewhere.

Hermione raised her head and looked into his eyes, pushing his bushy hair from his face. Severus hadn't known that his own eyes could emit so much warmth. Warmth and more. Something that looked treacherously like love.

"We'll be fine," she whispered, and then her face dissolved into bumps.

"You may be right," he murmured and bent over in pain while transforming back into his own self.

"I'm always right. I'm an insufferable know-it-all," Hermione, now again with breasts and bushy hair, said importantly.

Severus looked fondly at his cock, which stirred again at the sight of her lovely breasts and laughed.

The end.

#######

A/N: Hodrod the Horny-Handed is an activist for the Brotherhood of Goblins. (_Daily Prophet_ Newsletter)


End file.
